let me
by SnoopyPez
Summary: It was always like this. This tense, desperate need; an all-consuming passion. Ron/Draco slash. rated more for language.


**let me**

**Disclaimer:** I own not a thing. Heavens, no. 

**Author's Pathetic Note:** Alrighty then. This is SLASH. Turn away if you hate it. I was incredibly freaked out while writing all of this, and I have absolutely no idea how I managed. I heard the song and ::poof!:: it was obviously Ron/Draco. On that note, I apologise to Maria for the song choice and lyrics. ;) (Closer, by Nine Inch Nails, by the way.) This is a rather odd style of writing for me, not to mention the subject.. the lack of plot, really. I know all my stuff has a lack of plot, but this is the most so. Thanks to Tas for "letting" me paraphrase my favourite line from INiD. ;) Thanks to Manu and Voldeobum for actually liking the snips I showed them long ago. Ok. I'm nervous.

* * * * * * *

A hand scratches across his lower torso, leaving red marks that slowly fade – luckily, because such marks bring upon questions that can't be answered, this they know. He winds his own hands into the silvery hair that's tickling his thighs and pulls just enough so that he knows it hurts. The pain is glorious; the pain is _everything_.****

_you let me violate you, you let me desecrate you_

It had started after Potions one day. Ron had just walked out when he was pinned to the wall by Malfoy. The shorter boy had kissed him, suddenly and bruisingly, almost biting through Ron's bottom lip. And Ron had let him. He dropped his books, opened his mouth under Malfoy's, and drank him in, and all of his passion.

_you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you_

Malfoy hisses with the sting and pushes Ron's hands away from him. He slides up the redhead's body and his glare morphs into a smirk when Ron gasps from the new friction. Ron digs his nails into Malfoy's hips, pulling him closer and sending a jolt coursing through them both that effectively erases the smirk from Malfoy's face. The fight for control never ends with them.

_help me.._

Neither of them made it to their next class after that first kiss. They had stumbled, drunkenly but completely sober, to a hopefully secret and un-used room. And so began the meetings. They didn't bother to vocalize the reasons why; they vocalized other things.

_I broke apart my insides_

Malfoy pushes up and off of Ron and sits beside him, takes one of Ron's hands and raises it to his own mouth. Exuding casualness, he slips a pale digit past his lips and sucks gently, the velvet of his tongue swirling around the nail. Ron tries not to give away how he likes this, but his current state of undress makes it obvious. Malfoy removes Ron's finger from his mouth and traces patterns along it. Then, he speaks: "I bet your little mudblood can't make you feel this good." And without hesitation, he pulls Ron up violently and their teeth clash together.

_help me.. I've got no soul to sell_

They rarely kissed beyond the initial meetings; it was always a '_hey, good to see you –smooch- all right, take your clothes off_' sort of deal. There was a kiss, but they soon found better uses for their mouths, and too much kissing would take too long and was really far more intimate for either of them to think about. 

_help me.. the only thing that works for me_

Now it's Ron's turn to push away. He does so, and is just about to hit Malfoy right in the face, but he stops. Wonders, why _is_ he doing this? A part of him thinks Malfoy may be right, but he brushes the thought off. They still never talk about why they're so drawn to each other, and Ron isn't about to start now. Instead, he jumps on the Slytherin with a snarl, taking them both to the ground, Ron on top.

_help me get away from myself_

It was almost comical, how they had fought over who would take the other for the first time. Neither of them wanted to appear submissive, not even for a moment. It was finally decided after Malfoy's talented fingers pulled away, and Ron, utterly lost and pissed off, growled that Malfoy better _damn_ well replace those fingers with something bigger. There had been no time for gloating after; it was Ron's turn.

_I want to fuck you like an animal_

_I want to feel you from the inside_

_I want to fuck you like an animal_

_my whole existence is flawed_

_you get me closer to god_

No one would ever guess what they were doing when seeing how utterly _normal_ they acted in classes and corridors. Every insult to Harry or Hermione, every cruel comment about Ron's family would fester inside of him, and he wouldn't release it until their meetings. All of that anger, all the hatred for the other boy would be released only then; released through pleasure and incoherent moans. 

_you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings_

They don't move at first; both having lost their breath when their chests had collided. They lay, grasping for air, their bodies lined together, perfectly imperfect. Then Ron glares at Malfoy, still very angry. "I hate you," he says with the venom he never really loses when he's around the Slytherin. He drops his head to Malfoy's neck and bites, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make the other boy give a shuddering groan when Ron massages the mark skillfully with his tongue.__

_you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything_

Although there _had_ been one time when Ron thought Harry and Hermione had got suspicious. Harry had joked that Ron must have had a temper-removal operation, because wasn't he usually more prone to attacking Malfoy with his fists at least once a month? Ron had automatically blushed and stammered something about having been past all of that. The truth was that the last time they had fought in the hall, it was discovered that pushes and punches led to groping and gasping. Skin on skin was, simply put, a turn on with them, and the more violent, the better. 

_help me.. tear down my reason, help me.. it's your sex I can smell_

"God, enough foreplay," Malfoy says and reaches a hand down to stroke the other boy. Ron detangles himself from Malfoy's neck and looks at him, his blue eyes darkened with lust. His hips jerk but he is otherwise still, satisfied in watching the blond practically writhe against him. The room echoes back a soundtrack of harsh pants and it is only broken when Malfoy chokes out, "_Ron_,_ **please**_, right fucking _now_."

_help me.. you make me perfect, help me become somebody else_

Nightly meetings became more and more frequent, the only pauses being when Harry had a nightmare and Ron wanted to be with him. Once, Ron had been pulled into a crevice in a hallway and promptly got questioned about why he hadn't shown up the last night. "_Nightmare_," Ron had said, and Malfoy sneered, as he often did, and said some filthy innuendo about Ron sleeping with Harry. Eyes darting around to insure their privacy, Malfoy had pulled Ron down by his chin into a kiss. "_You stand me up again, I'm going to use those handcuffs on you_," he hissed into Ron's ear; Ron's whole body shivered. That night, they had both used the handcuffs.__

_I want to fuck you like an animal_

_I want to feel you from the inside_

I want to fuck you like an animal 

_my whole existence is flawed_

_you get me closer to god_

"_I really despise you_." It was said one day at random, when they weren't even fighting or shagging. "_D'you know that Harry saw my bruises and went and told Hermione_?" Ron had thrust his wrists under Malfoy's nose; they were then unmarred, the pale freckly skin perfectly smooth. "_This was the first time I ever had to Conceal marks on my arms, git. All your damn handcuffs' fault_." It was normal procedure for them to cast Concealing Charms on their bruises and scratches by now, Ron had learned this the hard way. "_So you'll do it quicker next time_," Malfoy had drawled boredly, then, still seizing Ron's wrist, ran his tongue along the underside, so slowly and deliberately he could feel a pulse. They had skipped their next lesson that day.

_through every forest, above the trees_

_within my stomach, scraped off my knees_

Ron smirks, extremely smug, and leans to kiss his way across Malfoy's chest. A desperate noise reminds him to skip the foreplay, as does the tightening of the hand between his legs. A moan escapes, this time from his own lips. Legs wrap around his, seeking more contact. Hips begin to buck against each other, fingers claw across damp skin, and soon both boys are flying without sanity, without boundaries, teetering on the edge. It was always like this. This tense, desperate need; an all-consuming passion. No matter how many times they met it was always like this. When they break, it is with vulgar words and vulgar acts, and with eyes tightly shut. Afterwards, they stare at each other, slowly regaining control, content not to trade insults for the time being. 

They always fuck all the anger out.

_I drink the honey inside your hive_

_you are the reason I stay alive_

End.


End file.
